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Attempting to switch lanes during rush hour and thankfully realizing at the very last second you have a Porsche Carerra GT in your blindspot.

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Lorelei is grumpy as hell for no reason at all, and is basically testing out her drama skills to see what kind of reaction she’ll get. She sees me giggling at her in the mirror, and is affronted at my audacity.

Lo: “No, Mommy. It so is not funny!”

[Jack turns back from the window, and beginning to giggle, attempts to give Lo a booger he just mined for.]

Lo: “No thank you. I’m full now.”

Jack: “C’mon, Lowlie, don’t you want a booger?”

Lo: “I said no thank you! I said I’m full now! Hmph.”

[Truly, she makes an actual ‘hmph’ sound. Usually it comes with a hand on a cocked hip. It’s hilarious.]

Me: “Gross, bubba. Keep your boogs to yourself, please. No one wants that.”

Jack (giggling harder): “You sure, Lowlie? It tastes like butter!”

Lo (simply furious, pounding her thighs with her fists for emphasis): “I said no thank you! I eat my own burgers when I want to!  I. AM. FUUUUUUUUUULL!”

 

..Sweet Mary I wish I could have recorded it. It was priceless.

Here’s the truth. For weeks now I’ve been trying to think about how to discuss a topic that is ready to be announced, but in proportion to the complexity of the whole thing, I’ve come to realize there is no simple way to announce that Jon and I are divorcing.  Even typing and reading the word is hard, despite that this has been going on for over a year, and much of the pain of it has already been absorbed. (Well. As much as can be at this point, I think.) And I only mention it now because out of respect for Jon and the kids, I’ve only blogged about maybe a third of what’s really been happening in my life in the last several months, and I’m ready to have the freedom to talk about more.

That said, this won’t become an outlet where I bash Jon. I respect him now as much as I ever did, and this isn’t a nasty situation. Nor will I  discuss details beyond some vague philosophical opinions I have on society and marriage and expectations. I have become ridiculously cynical in regards to people feeling like they have inherent entitlement to the whys of my life (seriously, the latest abject condescension from my insurance guy has depleted the last of the grace I can give to that kind of discussion), and I’m just done feeling obligated to anyone outside of the family, really. More than that, we have many of the same friends, and I want to continue what Jon and I have managed to salvage from our foundational friendship. So from that side of the equation I’ll say that I’m proud of how we’re handling it, and that the kids are doing remarkably well. There is a very large, very loving village raising them. Things really are going to be fine.

So that’s it, I guess. I don’t really have anything else to talk about today, and since this is historically an incredibly uncomfortable conversation for everyone, I’ll just end this like I would an awkward phone call where I say my kids are squawking to go to the park, so let’s get together for coffee soon, because it’s been too long.

Seriously though, the people who support us are our buoys, and my gratefulness is immeasurable.

xoxo

But this  ‘Feeling Good’, by My Brightest Diamond, is my favoritest.

A real update post is brewing and long overdue.

Hope everyone has a great start of the week.

Number of jobs Jen was told were frozen after resume had been submitted: 2

Number of (different) jobs Jen was told were frozen during interviews: 3

Number of (different) jobs Jen has worked: 3

Number of jobs Jen has now been laid off from: 3

Number of jobs Jen currently has…. all because of the goddamned economy: 0

How I love you so as I drink my jet fuel.

cat2

(So would I earn back some points if I read the stumbled upon Rolcats instead? Minus the questionable (bigoted?) humor within? Let me know, s’il vous plait, because I really want to find a way to justify this fulfillment.)

For a couple of weeks now I’ve had a piece of paper in my car where I write down personalized license plates that catch my eye. This stems from the fact that for being such a word nerd, I am (embarrassingly) confused by these combinations like, a lot. I don’t know if I’m just so rigid in my grammar rules that it takes me a while to think outside the box, or what, but it’s comical – to me but especially those riding in the car with me – just how stumped I get.  And, it’s a pet peeve of mine when people personalize their plates with messages no one gets – so  imagine how frustrating it is for me to not know whose fault it is when I can’t get it. Heh.

So, the following is the list I have compiled.  Some are obvious, some I’ve figured out with help. The rest, please scratch the itch and help a sister out.

Gracias and happy Friday.

1. LUVBYTZ  (duh)

2. GDKARMA (good karma)

3. HALFPT (half pint)

4. NZOHNTR

5. GOBDGRS (go badgers)

6. NSHERIF

7. DOSHIE

8. BEANCHF (bean chef? bean chief? WTH?)

9. OPENBSD (some programming language or something)

10. GRAVIE

11. GRMAPPI

12. SPRBLNG (super bling?)

13. VEGAN (duh)

14. VZBEGIM

15. WARWON (whose war?)

16. NVMYMPG (Had to get past ‘Nevada’ for this one. Saw that it was on a hybrid and finally ‘envy’ clicked. I’m such a dork.)

17. JESUS (I *so* want to know how they got this. They were very elderly, so I suppose it’s possible they were the first people in Kansas to ever drive, thus getting first dibs..)

So this story conflicts me. On one hand, I think it’s awesome that this woman had the balls to take her halflings with her to report to duty, b/c I disagree with how out of hand this war has gotten (or even its validity in the first place, if we want to go there), and she was honorably discharged years ago and deserves to be able to raise her young family. She already sacrificed for her country and there is no one to watch the kids if she is pulled for IRR.

On the other hand, I’m sure a large majority of soldiers have families, and it’s never really convenient to do a tour in that life stage, obviously. And, mostly, I have a profound respect for the gravity of the commitment it takes to serve in the military that continually protects my pampered ass, and I don’t think that it should be (or is) treated lightly.

So there you go. I know some of y’all are military brats, and as I’m fascinated to the point of anthropological study of that entire world, I’d really love to know what you think.

1. This article is pretty cool. The epidural rate here is in the 90th percentile, and surely – surely – if you think about that you’d have to realize that that’s illogical. There are myriad risks associated with epidurals, and for it to be treated with the casualness of a Tylenol is ridiculous. A medical necessity, absolutely. But not for 90+ women out of a hundred.

2. It’s bitter cold and slushy and after 17 years of defending my love of chilliness based on some native Colorado elitism I am ready to admit that I AM FREAKING TIRED OF THIS  WEATHER.

3. My kids were puketastic all weekend (the pic of Lo is from a few weeks ago) and I am wiped today. But can I say again, in full-on guilt mode, that I cherish when Jack is not feeling well? He’s just cuddly and, well.. calm when he’s sick, and after relieving any mama worry that he’s in any danger, I just get to relax and spend quiet time with him. Such a parental paradox. Shrug.

 

Happy Monday, all.

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